


I kept passing by every sign, hoping one day I'd make you mine

by mithrilstarlight



Series: A Thousand Lifetimes [7]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-02 17:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11514063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrilstarlight/pseuds/mithrilstarlight
Summary: Sansa's due for a surgery and Arya's using it as an excuse for quality time. She and Marg find out about Sansa's little crush on Willas and take matters into their own hands.





	I kept passing by every sign, hoping one day I'd make you mine

“Sansa, you’re dying!”

Sansa rolled her eyes, unwilling to acknowledge her little sister’s dramatic antics. “I’m not dying, Arya, I’m just going in for a surgery so that the benign tumor doesn’t spread and become a problem. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Arya continued pacing, hands buried in her short hair. She had recently gotten brightly colored highlights, rounding out the punkish look that Catelyn quietly loathed.

Sansa looked up from her book and sighed. “Honestly, I don’t know why you’re having such a reaction. If anything, I expected Mom to pace and fret, not you.”

“You know I only act dramatically to annoy you. But don’t you see, this is the perfect excuse!” Arya leaped onto the couch, crossing her legs as she sat facing her sister.

Sansa put the book down. “Perfect excuse for what?” This wasn’t going anywhere good if she was this excited.

Arya grabbed her sister’s hands. There was a devious look in her eye. “Okay, so you’re not _technically_ dying, but it’s still not _great_.”

“Get to the point, Arya.” Sansa was growing impatient.

“This is your chance to knock a bunch of stuff off your bucket list. You know, do things that you’ve always wanted to do but never had the time or the right reason for,” Arya said. “What are things that you’ve never done but seem really cool?”

“Arya, this is ridic-”

“ _Please_ , Sansa? For me?” Arya had mastered the art of the puppy-dog eyes. As ridiculous as the prospect was, it was hard to say no to her little sister. “I want to spend time with you. We never see each other anymore.”

Sansa scoffed. “That’s your fault.” She sat in silence, staring at her sister’s pleading grey eyes. “Ugh, fine.”

Arya jumped up to her knees, punching her fists up into the air. “Aha! Success!” she shouted before crawling off the couch and pulling Sansa up with her. “I want a list tomorrow, okay? We’re gonna make this month the most awesome month of your life.”

“Fine,” Sansa said, resigning herself to her fate with a shake of the head. “Now scat, I want to read my book in peace.”

“Whatever, nerd,” Arya said as she skipped out of the room, triumphant smile on her face. Sansa dreaded what misadventures her sister was going to plot for them.

* * *

Sansa lay spread-eagle on her bed, phone resting on her chest as she spoke to Marg. “Honestly, Marg, I don’t know what I’m going to do with her,” Sansa said. “I almost miss the days where all we did is fight. Suddenly she wants to spend an entire month of quality time. I mean, it’s just a surgery. And not even an invasive one. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“San, just accept it. You know you’re not going to change Arya’s mind, especially now that you agreed to do this,” Marg said. The eyeroll was practically audible.

“But I can’t think of anything to put on this stupid bucket list,” Sansa sighed. She held a notepad above her, staring at the empty page. “I’m perfectly content with the life I’ve lived and I don’t feel the need to go on some soul-searching adventure.”

Marg was quiet for a moment and Sansa almost thought her friend had hung up on her. “Well,” Marg started, “who says it has to be a soul-searching adventure?”

“I don’t know, I just figured if she’s going to be dramatic about it she’ll be unhappy with anything that isn’t a life-changing experience.”

Marg began to laugh. “Sansa, I don’t know your sister half as well as you do, but even _I_ know that’s not true. She wants to spend time with you and hang out and do stupid stuff together while you’re on vacation. Look, if you’re really worried that she’ll get out of hand, I’ll go with you and make sure she doesn’t talk you into jumping off a cliff, alright?”

“You’d better, because there’s no way I’m doing that,” Sansa said. She set the phone aside and turned over to start writing.

* * *

“I thought you said you’d make sure I don’t get talked into jumping off a cliff?” Sansa stood on a bridge, dressed in full gear for bungee jumping. Arya had deemed most of her ideas too boring for a proper adventure. Marg had been inclined to agree.

Marg, excitedly smiling and also wearing in jumping gear, shrugged. “Your sister is very persuasive.” Sansa frowned, sitting in her hip as they waited for their guide to finish strapping Arya into her own outfit.

“Besides, this is a bridge, not a cliff,” Marg said, snickering.

Sansa reached out and smacked her best friend’s shoulder. “If I die, I’m haunting you for the rest of your life,” Sansa called to her sister. Arya’s response was a stuck-out tongue.

Arya went first, practically leaping off of the platform and shrieking with glee as she fell through the air. Marg was a bit more hesitant in her jump, but was also nothing but thrilled to fall a hundred feet into a canyon. When it was Sansa’s turn, she walked out onto the platform, adrenaline so high that she wasn’t sure she was walking rather than floating. She closed her eyes, whispered a prayer, and then stepped off. When she made it back up to the bridge, she was met with cheers from both Arya and Marg.

“For the record, I’m never doing that again,” Sansa said as she started unstrapping her gear.

* * *

Two days before the surgery, the three sat on the balcony of Marg’s apartment. Sansa wasn’t advised to drink for a few days before the surgery, but that didn’t stop the other two from cracking open a bottle of champagne to celebrate their exciting month of adventures.

“I still can’t believe you two talked me into half the stuff we did,” Sansa said, sipping at her iced tea. She nudged Marg with her foot. “Especially you, traitor.”

“What? I told you I’d make sure things didn’t get out of hand, not that I’d make it boring.” This earned her another gentle kick from Sansa.

“So, any last regrets?” Arya asked, lowering her sunglasses and leaning back in the chair. “Anything at all in this life that you wish you could do.”

“Arya, enough, I’m not actually dying. Anything I haven’t already done I can do after I recover from the surgery.” Sansa looked down at her tea, refusing to make eye contact with her sister.

Marg’s hand shot out to grab Arya’s arm, her lips curling into a smirk that made the hair on the back of Sansa’s neck stand on end. “She’s hiding something,” Marg said.

“You’re right,” Arya said, returning Marg’s grasp. They wore matching smiles as they clutched each other.

Marg leaned forward, putting her sunglasses up on top of her head. “Come on, San, tell us.”

“I’m not hiding anything!” Sansa’s face was turning red as the two stared her down.

“Liar,” Arya said, letting go of Marg and leaning back again.

Sansa rolled her eyes and stood up. “I’m not telling either of you because it’s none of your business.”

Marg looked over at Arya, mouthing “It’s a boy” before reached out and taking Sansa’s hand. Marg pulled her back down into her seat. “We’re just teasing you, don’t worry. But you are a terrible liar.”

Sansa grumbled, crossing her arms and staring off across the cityscape.

A few minutes later, the doorbell to Marg’s apartment rang. She hopped up out of her seat and made for the door. “That’ll be Willas. He said he’d swing by to pick up my present for Desmera’s wedding since I’ll be out of the country for work. He’s such a sweetheart.” She pulled the door open and practically leaped into her brother’s arms and planted a kiss on his cheek. “It’s been ages, Will, how dare you ignore your little sister like this.”

“It’s not my fault you’re out of the country every other week,” he said with a grin as he stepped into the apartment. Upon seeing the Stark girls out on the balcony, he did a double take. “I didn’t know you had guests, Marg, or I would’ve come another time.”

“Oh, it’s just Sansa and Arya. Come say hi!” Marg led him over, somehow causing a third champagne glass to appear out of thin air as they stepped outside.

Arya lazily lifted a hand to wave. “Hey,” she said. But behind her sunglasses she had her eyes trained on Sansa. The second Marg had mentioned Willas’s name, Sansa stiffened like Arya had never seen before. She was like a deer frozen in the middle of the road. Marg was right, it _was_ a boy. A very specific boy that was now walking over to where they were seated right this moment.

Sansa, acutely aware that she was seconds away from talking to Willas for the first time since that horribly embarrassing conversation two years prior at one of Marg’s functions, inhaled sharply as she stood up to greet her best friend’s brother. “Hi, Willas,” she said, pasting a neutral smile on her face before reaching out to shake his hand.

Willas laughed, taking her hand. “We’ve met before, you know.”

This turned Sansa’s face several shades redder, and her smile turned quickly into a nervous lip-bite. “Well, yes, but it’s been a long time. I wasn’t sure if you remembered me.”

“Of course I remember you,” he said. Sansa’s heart stopped for a moment. “You’re Marg’s best friend, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard your name once a week for the last five years,” he said as he sat down in the seat next to her.

Marg shoved the new glass into his hand and poured him a drink. “We were just celebrating a month of wild adventures before Sansa’s surgery in a few days.”

Willas took a small sip of champagne and then looked over at Sansa, who was sitting straight-backed and gripping her glass with white knuckles as she stared pointedly at Marg or her lap rather than him. “Oh? He leaned back, stretching his leg out.

It was Arya’s turn to jump in, a wicked smile on her face to match that on Marg’s. “Yeah, we figured San might as well enjoy life for once since she might die on the operating table.”

Willas choked on his drink, hurriedly setting it down and looking up at his sister and then Sansa. Her face was bright red. “Wait, what?”

“I’m not dying, Arya is just keen on convincing everyone I am,” Sansa said, shifting in her seat. She finally turned to look at him. “It’s nothing, really. Just a small surgery. I’ll be out of the hospital in a couple of days.” She took a long swig from her glass, wishing it was alcoholic so she could drink away the embarrassment her sister was keen on inciting.

“Oh,” he said, leaning back again. Arya and Marg were looking at each other, mouthing their gossip over how concerned Willas appeared to be about Sansa.

She had apparently caught on, because she cleared her throat loudly and stood up. “Arya, I think we might want to be heading out now. I know Dad won’t care if we’re late for dinner, but Mom will.” Arya, wrinkling her nose at the suggestion, stood up as well. “Besides,” she continued, glaring down at her friend, “I think Marg will want to spend time with her brother.”

Willas stood, ignoring the clear message Sansa had been sending to the other girls, and walked around the chairs to say goodbye. “It was nice meeting you,” he said to Arya, who gave another half-hearted wave and waltzed towards the door. Willas turned to Sansa, not as quick to words as he was with Arya. “I, uh, it was nice seeing you. Again,” he said. “Good luck with your surgery.”

“Thanks,” she said, brushing her hair behind her ear. “It was nice seeing you, too.” She turned and followed her sister out the door before he could say another word. When the door closed behind them, Sansa turned to Arya with a cold stare. “Don’t say a word.”

Arya raised her hands innocently and walked off. She didn’t have to say anything.

* * *

Sansa woke up after the surgery feeling bizarrely well-rested and at ease. She lifted her hand, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. That ease was probably the painkillers they were pumping into her system. She picked up the remote lying next to her and summoned a nurse who asked questions and poked around and said that her family would be in to see her shortly.

“She lives!” Arya bellowed, launching herself into the room.  
  


“Arya, be quiet. You’re disturbing the entire hallway,” Catelyn said, following her loud daughter into the small room. Ned, Bran, and Rickon were soon to follow. “How do you feel?” Cat sat down on the bed, taking Sansa’s hand.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Sansa said, squeezing her mother’s hand. She looked up at her father. “Honestly, the doctor will be in soon to tell me how it went. I’ll be out tomorrow, okay?”

A few short minutes later, the doctor arrived and dismissed everyone. Arya took a seat in the hallway outside as the rest of the family left. Later, after Sansa had yet again been poked and prodded and everything checked out, the doctor let Arya back in, saying that Sansa would be free to leave the following afternoon assuming no infection developed.

“This place smells funny,” Arya said, sitting cross-legged in the chair next to Sansa’s bed.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “It’s a hospital, Arya, it’s all sterile and clean. They can’t exactly pop in an air freshener to make it smell nice.” She paused for a minute. “Wait, did you take your car? Bran said something about fitting everyone into Dad’s tiny car today.”

“Oh, Marg is giving me a ride home,” Arya said, pulling out her phone and typing something.

Sansa sat up a bit. “Arya, what did you do?”

Arya gaped. “I didn’t do anything! If this month has meant anything, it’s that I actually like spending time with you even if you are boring. And Marg was going to come by anyway, so I figured I’d stick around. She’s actually kind of fun.”

Jaw tightening, Sansa leaned back into her bed and sighed. “Fine.”

“Why’d you get all defensive, anyway?” Arya’s voice was unusually casual.

“It’s nothing.” Sansa looked down at her hands, willing her face to not redden as she thought about the other day with Willas.

Arya leaned forward and put her elbows on the bed, resting her head in her palms. “You can’t lie to me, San. I saw how you acted around Willas. Marg saw it, too. You’re not exactly good at hiding your crushes.”

Sansa looked back at her sister. She chewed on the inside of her lip. “I was afraid you two were going to pull something and bring him here.”

“Bring who here?” Willas knocked on the open door wearing the same gentle smile as always.

Margaery was right behind him grinning from ear to ear. She slipped around her brother and sat on the bed next to where Arya was perched. “I take it everything went well?” she asked.

“Yeah, everything is fine. I’ll be out tomorrow,” Sansa replied quietly.

Arya sat up straight and tugged at Marg’s arm. “Hey, wanna go make faces at babies in the nursery?”

“Absolutely.” Marg slid off the bed and winked at Sansa.

Sansa scowled, shifting herself further up the bed to sit. The two schemers disappeared around the corner, chattering away, leaving Willas still standing in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.”

There was a long pause. Willas walked in and sat in the chair. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m here.”

Sansa glanced over at him. “It’s just unexpected, that’s all.”

“Well, I actually wanted to ask you something. You rushed off the other day before we had a chance to talk.” Willas almost sounded nervous, his voice quiet and concerned.

“Oh,” Sansa said. She tapped her fingers anxiously on the bed. “So?”

Willas got up and sat on the edge of the bed. “I wanted to talk about what happened two years ago.”

“Can we please talk about anything other than that?” Sansa looked over at him with pleading eyes. “It’s in the past, and I don’t want to revisit it.” Her face was burning hot as she turned red. She thought back to that night. Gods, she was so drunk. And young. And shamelessly hitting on her best friend’s hot older brother.

Willas took her hand into his own. “Well, considering that you’ve ignored my existence for two years, I feel like it’s time we addressed it now that you’ll look at me again,” he said.

Sansa pulled her hand back, crossing her arms. “It’s was horribly embarrassing for me, okay? I was… very drunk.”

Willas laughed. “I remember.” He reached out and brushed her hair aside. “Hey. You said all those things, which I’m not sure you actually remember all of, kissed me, and then disappeared and never spoke to me again.” He tilted her chin towards him. “Maybe it’s time to let me actually say something?”

“Fine,” Sansa said, sighing.

He picked her hand back up and gently stroked it with his thumb. “If I had known that you didn’t know who I was at the time, I never would’ve let you kiss me. I thought it was my lucky day that Marg’s incredibly attractive best friend was into me. And then you found out who I was and panicked and wanted nothing to do with me. Needless to say, I was a bit confused. And still am.”

Sansa chuckled. It was silent for a few moments before she spoke. “I had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on you, actually.” Willas nodded slowly. “And I was determined to bury it as deeply as possible and failed.”

“Do you still have a big, embarrassing crush on me?” Willas gently squeezed her hand.

Nodding slowly, Sansa winced. “Yeah, I kind of do.”

“I thought as much.” Willas let go of her hand. “Well, that’s good news, because I may have a big, embarrassing crush on you, too.” He leaned forward and gently kissed her. Pulling back just enough to talk, he smiled. “Promise me you won’t go another two years without speaking to me after this one?”

“Promise,” Sansa said as she leaned up and kissed him again.


End file.
